


Candies for the Heart

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: All The Ships, M/M, One Shot, One Shot Collection, Short One Shot, only drarry is constant
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-23
Updated: 2016-01-24
Packaged: 2018-05-15 19:41:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5797321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of drarry one-shots. Enjoy! xoxo (more to be posted)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> All prompts are from onetruepairingideas.tumblr.com and you should really check them out!
> 
> Give JK Rowling credit where credit is due, please, she is the inspiration and cause of all the fanwork!

_**Prompt:** “You stole my candy and now you’re taunting me with it in your mouth and I kiss you to steal it. Bet you didn’t expect th- wait why are you kissing me back?!”_

“See, Potter, stealing candy from babies really is just as easy as they say,” Draco drawled, holding up the stolen peppermint to the light he had swiped from a first year.

“Seriously, Malfoy? That is like the epitome of evil,” Harry rolled his eyes and grabbed the peppermint from Draco.

“Did Granger teach you the meaning of epitome?” Draco teased, but Harry quickly swiped the peppermint from Draco’s hand while he wasn’t paying attention.

“Hey, give that back!” Draco pouted.

“It’s mine now,” Harry laughed, tossing it up in the air and snorting as Draco tried and failed to swipe it from Harry, “Malfoy, you know I was always the better seeker.”

“I’ll fight you for it,” Draco crossed his arms, his lip curled.

“No,” the look of glee in Harry’s eyes was apparent and Draco hated him for it, “you won’t,” he finished, popping the peppermint in his mouth.

“Is that a challenge?” Draco smiled crookedly, biting his lip.

“You wish,” Harry breathed, and pushed the peppermint to the front of his mouth, laughter in his eyes. Draco grabbed onto the train hand rail, steadying himself. Potter was always doing this, one upping Draco in everything. All he needed was the element of surprise. What would Potter never suspect? What was such a surprise _Draco_ wouldn’t even suspect it?

He smiled again wickedly, and owing up to his name sake, leaned into Potter’s mouth and bit onto the peppermint, forming his lips around Potter’s. He intended to pull away, the look on Potter’s face was priceless enough, but he couldn’t—

—was Potter kissing back? No, he couldn’t be, they were archenemies but Potter was pressing into Draco’s face, and pushing him against the nearest carriage and Draco couldn’t breathe. It was hot, Draco inhaled sharply and went in with the lips. But Draco wasn’t gay, he had kissed girls before, but they were so _gentle_ compared to Potter. Potter acted like Draco’s mouth was… territory.

Well, that was a challenge Draco couldn’t resist, and he pushed back, pushing his tongue into Potter’s. He would coat every part of Potter’s mouth with his tongue, and see if he could breathe again…it was all his fault anyway. Putting the bloody mint in his mouth, it was like he was asking Draco for a kiss. _Was_ he asking Draco for a kiss? Was this the only way the bloody prat knew how? Did he even know he was gay? Actually, he definitely knew he was gay: Potter kissed with experience.

Potter reached up for Draco’s hair and Draco knew it was being messed up but he didn’t care because it was bloody Potter, and he had to hold on to Harry to even keep breathing.

Finally, the train came to a stop, and so did, unfortunately, the kissing. Draco couldn’t tell if it was he or Potter who had ended it but Potter had an intense look of hunger in his eyes.

“See you around?” Harry said breathlessly, opening the door to his carriage.

“You wish, Scarhead,” Draco drawled, and felt quite pleased.


	2. Wedding Woes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> •we were both unwillingly coerced into going to a wedding and we bet on who could drink the most glasses of free wine. three hours later there is no clear winner and were collapsed in a pile of our own puke in the corner of the room

 

 

“Congrats, I guess,” Harry stared at Ron, “Seriously, are you just dating her because you’re mad that Hermione’s going with Zabini?”

“No, I am way to good for that,” Ron frowned, drowning the glass of lager he had ordered.

“I wouldn’t blame you mate,” Harry smiled. He hadn’t touched his fire whisky yet. “Because Hermione was only dating Cormac in sixth year to make you jealous, you know.”

“Wait, really?” Ron shouted and slammed his glass down a bit to hard. “But Harry, don’t go on about Hermione and I. She’s never taking me back and,” he peered into his glass, realized there was no more and took a swig of Harry’s drink. “You don’t mind, do you?” He asked, knowing Harry didn’t.

Harry shook his head, smiling.

“Well, I wouldn’t take her back as a friend. Hermione was always…tame, you know?” Ron looked a bit guilty, but _not guilty enough_ , Harry thought angrily. He could hear Hermione chiding them in the back of his head, _Ronald Weasley, don’t you dare objectify women again in front of me!_ If this was Ron’s way of vengeance, it was pretty petty.

“So, what, Pansy attacks you, and suddenly you got the hots?” Harry asked, disturbed. “Wait, don’t answer that.” Ron smiled sheepishly.

“You always liked violent women,” Harry shook his head, even more off put- he was glad he hadn’t drunk anything. Maybe he needed to. “First Fleur, a veela, then Lavender,” he swallowed. Lavender was still a painful subject, even if she had kissed like the giant squid. “Then Hermione, which however much you want to call her _tame,_ ” that felt wrong as Hermione had never been more than a friend to Harry, “she certainly fought with you a lot. You think you have a type?”

“Dunno. When you phrase it like that,” but Ron didn’t seem to mind, “Harry, I think she’s the one.”

~ ~ ~

“Eugh, I can’t believe Ron proposed to that cow!” Hermione leaned against Harry.

“He seems to really like her,” Harry offered shyly. There was a pause, and it hung stalely in the air. “Hermione,” Harry started quietly, “you don’t _still_ love Ron, do you?”

“Oh, don’t phrase it like that!” Hermione stood up and started pacing, her curls bouncing as she walked, “I don’t love him. I don’t even _like_ him. I’m just upset that he and Pansy seem to be getting along so well, and me and Blaise-“ she turned away but Harry heard the stifled sniffles.

“Look, I’ve said it from the beginning,” Harry said grimly, “nothing good can come from associating with the Slytherins. Ron and Pansy won’t last, they’re just using each other really.”

“Harry!” Hermione seemed even more upset, “You can’t keep calling them Slytherins. They’re good people, really, you needed to come with us when we go out sometime, they all are really nice. In Hogwarts, they were all just misguided. Their parents are all awful,” now she was really crying.

“They’re all still gits,” Harry muttered.

“I’m going to talk to Blaise,” Hermione wiped away the few tears that had leaked. “I think I may love him after all.” And with that, she stormed from the room.

~ ~ ~

 

PLEASE, JOIN US FOR DINNER AND DANCING

TO CELEBRATE THE MARRIAGE OF

—————————— ~ ——————————

**PANSY**

**AND RON**

—————————— ~ ——————————

SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 19, 2016

THE WOLF LODGE, STRASBURG17701

_PLEASE RSVP_

~ ~ ~

Harry looked at the wedding invitation. _This was not going to go well._ But Ron had insisted he had to come, and even if Ron ended up like Zabini’s mum, Harry would be there to support him.

~ ~ ~

Harry forgot that Pansy’s friends would be coming to. Harry was glad that the only relatives there were Pansy’s who were pureblood but at least not extremists or death eaters, and of course the Weasley’s who had mixed opinions about the marriage. Harry just couldn’t let go of the idea that when they were seventeen Pansy wanted to hand over Harry to Voldemort.

Harry watched emotionally as Pansy and Ron said their vows: they really did seem to be in love, he thought in awe. They were seated for dinner afterwards, and Harry was one of the few singles so he got seated at a table with Ron and Pansy, Hermione and Blaise, Mrs. and Mr. Weasley, and himself.

“Isn’t it awkward,” Blaise teased, “having your ex sit with you at your marriage?”

“Not my ex,” Ron said with a mouth full of food, “one of my best friends.”

“Ron!” Mrs. Weasley admonished, “how come I still need to tell you not to talk while chewing?” But she looked oddly pleased, and to proud to care.

They went through the courses, and Harry felt almost bad when it came to dessert, but then he didn’t because they had treacle tart.

“I told the caterers that was a must,” Ron said happily to Harry, eating a chocolate frog.

“Thanks,” Harry smiled. This was what he was worried about, he thought. He didn’t want Pansy to replace him and drift away from Ron and Hermione’s lives. He already didn’t go to their ‘outings’ with the Slytherins. Sometimes Seamus and Dean came too, but Harry didn’t want to go unless he had a date. It would be too awkward otherwise. He was glad to see Ron had still thought of him while ordering the dessert.

~ ~ ~

“Good evening, everyone,” George said speaking into a microphone, starting the Best Man speech, “Thanks for putting down your forks for long enough to give me your undivided attention. For those of you who don’t know who I am, I’m the best man, and Ron’s older brother. And before I say anything else, I’d like us all to take a moment to appreciate and raise our glasses to our mum and dad for what has been thus far a wonderful celebration on such a special occasion. Now, I know that most of you don’t make it out often and only came here for the free wine, so I’ve been asked by Pansy to instruct you not to make a scene — I’m looking at you Teddy.

Ron and I have been close since his birth, I like to think, but I really got to know him at the Hogshead, once he was old enough to drink.” The crowd was laughing. George was always to calmer than Fred, but he had an ease that seemed to sit well with a crowd and get a room to quiet.

“Don’t worry, Pansy. I’m not leading to the story you’re worried about!” There were a few more polite titters.

“So when I first saw Ron at the dingy bar, I couldn’t believe that he had demolished a whole chicken! When I sat down with him he told me happily that he knew every professional keeper’s favourite colour in all of England. Ron stopped being a hunger maniac not long after that meeting, and meeting Pansy who is a great influence on Ron, but, happily, has never lose his cheerful personality or obsession with Quidditch. And for anyone who doubted that he did, let’s not forget about our night at the Leaky Cauldron… Just kidding, Pansy. Ron was as well behaved… ahem, dull… as Aunt Muriel.

But there’s a lot more to being spontaneous and cheerful than eating whole chickens. We’ve all seen Ron bring his great spirit and energy to his work as an auror and to his pursuit of Quidditch stalking, apparently. And it’s definitely been a driving force in a friendship that has lasted since his birth, with a lot of years yet to come.

And, in any case, we all knew that obsessing over Quidditch players wouldn’t last forever. (At least we all hoped it wouldn’t!) If it had, then Pansy probably wouldn’t have given Ron a second look at the Three Broomsticks, where they first started meeting outside of school, of course.. Walking into the Three Broomsticks, I’m sure neither Ron nor Pansy expected it to be the start of a journey that would lead us here today. After all, Pansy was so busy with her articles for the Daily Prophet, while Ron was so busy with his muggle stamp collecting, that neither thought that they had room for another person in their life.

On June fourth 2014, destiny changed their plans.

And this was the first of many changes to come in Ron’s life. First of all, gone were his habits of leaving dishes all over the house and his Chudley Cannon long johns! But, more importantly, we started to see Ron shine in ways we never knew possible. Pansy, whether it was through her organization talents or her introducing Ron to yoga, brought a new dimension of happiness to him that even I had never seen. But, having got to know Pasny a bit more in recent weeks, now I understand where this happiness comes from.

In fact, tonight I see two very happy families coming together. And we all know how delicate interfamilial relations can be — particularly when one family is full of Slytherins and the other is full of Gryffindors. But whether it’s over a steaming plate of Slytherin Sorbet or getting together around the Cannons shrine Ron has, it all comes down the same thing: love and mutual respect. And I think you would all agree that there’s a lot of that in this room today, and I think you’d also agree that there’s a lot of that between Ron and Pansy.

So let’s all raise our glasses to the happy couple. Ron may not go out drinking alone anymore, but with Pansy at his side, his humor and joy is now perfectly matched. Cheers!” George smiled and sat down. Harry thought the speak was pretty bland and mildly composed. But Harry supposed George didn’t really want to talk about Pansy or her family, George seemed like the only one besides Harry who was the least bit doubtful of the marriage.

~ ~ ~

Even worse was the dancing. After the father daughter dance, they encouraged all the couples to come and slow dance, and it seemed like everyone was paired off: even Teddy had brought his girlfriend Rylee.

Harry walked over to the bar, at least taking advantage of the free wine.

“A fire whisky, please,” he asked, sitting down at the bar. He paled, and almost left though, when he saw that familiar head of blond hair sit down next to him.

“What are _you_ doing here?” Harry asked, angry. Ron could have warned him that Malfoy would’ve been there!

“I suppose,” Malfoy drawled, “the same as you? Avoiding the zombie storm of couples. Do they have any friends that aren’t paired off?” Besides you, Harry thought, angrily, and me.

“No, I mean, at this party!” Harry was frustrated and this time, gulped down the fire whisky. He held up his finger, asking for another.

“Ooh, Potter, wonder what mother will say about drinking?” Malfoy snorted.

“I don’t,” Harry gripped the counter, “just answer the damn question, Malfoy.”

“Testy, are we?” Malfoy smiled, saying lightly. “I suppose I’m here because I’m probably Pansy’s best friend.” He smirked. “One Golden Snitch,” he ordered a cocktail off the menu.

“At least the drinks are free,” Harry said softly, feeling a bit drunk already.

“You can’t hold your drink at all, can you Potter?” Malfoy laughed, amused.

“I can too!” Harry protested, and took another swallow of the fire whisky to prove his point.

“Alright, fancy a contest? The drinks are free, after all,” Malfoy smiled, leering at Harry.

“I’d beat you easily,” Harry muttered.

“I don’t think so, Potter, I’ve been practicing,” Malfoy said and looked almost distraught. “But I’m taking that as acceptance of the challenge.”

“I’ve already had two drinks, though,” Harry protesting as he drowned the last of his fire whisky.

“Alright,” Malfoy drowned the Golden Snitch, “four fire whiskies,” he called out. The bartender rolled his eyes.

When they got them, Malfoy kept three and pushed one over to Harry. “Whoever passes out first, or gives up loses. I’ll take three to make up for the two you’ve already drunk.”

Harry easily swallowed the one fire whisky but was surprised to see Malfoy had already finished two of his drinks.

“You don’t see me getting drunk, do you Potter?” Malfoy laughed, noticing Harry staring. His eyes were aglow, though and had some old fire, no spirit in them that Harry hadn’t seen since fifth year. The death eaters really had done a number on Malfoy.

“Malfoy, you’re too skinny to beat me in this,” Harry said, trying to tell himself: no you are not drunk, get over this delusion!

“Potter, you really are unpracticed in this drinking thing. And here I was, thinking you were a bachelor who went out drinking every weekend! Pansy tells me that they go out nearly weekly at this rate.”

“I’ve- I’ve never gone,” Harry admitted, “and I’m busy enough as an auror to worry about drinking and bars and-“ he broke off.

“And girls?” Malfoy’s smile became brighter, holding up two more fingers as he had finished his third drink. The two more fire whiskies came, and Harry started drinking his. “And… sex?” Malfoy was almost laughing now.

“No!” Harry protested, “not,” he took a swig so Malfoy couldn’t see his blush, “not sex.”

“But yes to the girls?” Malfoy asked innocently, fiddling with his fingers. He had already finished his drink.

“Don’t know about the girls,” Harry said grumpily. “I’m much to busy with work to think about anyone with sex in mind, really. Are you…” he trailed off.

“Am I what, Potter?” Malfoy said, amused. Seeing Harry had finished his drink, he held up another two fingers.

“Thinking about…” the blush had reemerged, and Harry had no drink to hide behind, “girls. And sex.”

“Potter, you’re going to have to get me drunker than this to answer that,” Malfoy laughed, distributing the two new drinks between them.

“Do we even get, like crackers or something, to settle the drink?” Harry complained.

“It’s called a challenge,” Malfoy drawled. “Now tell me something interesting, before I get bored.”

“I-I” Harry was glad he was sitting down, but he peered dangerously from side to side. Malfoy put a hand on his shoulder to settle him, and Harry lurched away, leaving Malfoy looking a bit down-put. Down-put, there was a fun word. Down-put, down-put, down-put.

“POTTER!” Draco said angrily, “Are you okay?” Harry grabbed the counter.

“Yeah Draco,” he muttered, “no, Malfoy! What was your name again?”

Clearly amused, what’s-his-name put his hand on Harry’s shoulder again and Harry almost flinched, but then realized he liked the hand. It was pale, and the fingers were slender, and Harry nestled his head on the hand. It was beautiful, really. He looked up and saw the face. How had he never seen such beauty? How had he never known what’s-his-name had such nice jawbones and lips? Lips, Harry liked the lips. He moaned a bit.

“God, Potter, you’re a easy drunk. Since you technically haven’t passed out, do you give up now, before you do something embarrassing?” What’s-his-name’s eyes were on fire, and Harry wanted to kiss them, kiss every part of him, and what was wrong with him? Was it the drink? Harry was sure it was the drink, he had never wanted to kiss a boy before but Malfoy seemed so utterly kissable tonight.

Maybe it was because it was a wedding. Everyone was madly in love, and Harry was just lonely. It was only natural he reached out to the only other lonely person in the wedding.

“No, no n-no I don’t give up,” Harry stumbled and leaned on the counter. He noticed the bartender was giving him some dubious glances. “Tuh two muore glass-ses ple—“ he closed his eyes. It was nice.

“Merlin’s pants, Potter, are you a _sleepy drunk?_ ” Malfoy’s lip curled. “That is so utterly boring. I thought at least you’d be angry and I’d get a good fight out of this.”

“You,” Harry started, words were hard now, he opened his eyes and the world was bright, “wanted to fight?” But why? the only rational part of his brain left was asking. “And why aren’t you drunk yet?” he accused.

Malfoy only laughed, “Because, I know you can’t accept this Potter, but I’m better at this than you.”

“I demand a forfeit where you drink like,” Harry counted on his fingers, “six more glasses. And get me some nuts to eat, will you?” Malfoy looked utterly too pleased.

“Whatever you say, Potter. I still think I’m winning this.” Malfoy cleared his throat, “Six more glasses of fire whisky. And some,” he cleared his throat, “nuts for the young man here.”

“It sounds bad when you put it like that!” Harry protested.

“Tell me, Potter, are you a virgin?”

“Does it matter?” Harry asked dazily, chewing on a walnut. Malfoy was devouring two more glasses of fire whisky, and at last his eyes seemed to glaze over,

“Ha! So you are!” Malfoy gleamed.

“No, actually. That’s the pro of having two girlfriends before leaving school.” Harry frowned.

“So you did it _twice_ before you graduated, and then never again? That’s sad, scarface,” Malfoy laughed.

“Can we, not talk about this?” Harry frowned, feeling sick in his stomach. He was definitely drunk. Drunk enough to kiss Draco easily. It was taking all of his self-control not to.

“So, definitely not into men?” Draco pouted,

If this wasn’t an invitation, Harry didn’t know what was. And Draco had finished five out of six glasses already, anyway. Harry leached forward and grabbed Draco’s beautiful white hair between his course fingers and shoved their faces together, sloppily kissing Draco who smelt like alcohol and smoke and cologne.

Hermione was right when she said Slytherins weren’t all that bad.


End file.
